


Seeing Clearly

by Beleriandings



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: BROTP fic for Sam and Nick because i love them, Charter magic contact lenses, Gen, Soft Boys, i am pretty sure Nick has canon PTSD so maybe references to flashbacks, much-needed communication, references to Nick/Lirael, some time has passed since the events of Goldenhand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: Nick's Ancelstierran glasses have finally broken, but luckily Sam can fix just about anything.





	Seeing Clearly

Nick took off the remains of his glasses – all cracked lenses and magic-fatigued metal, flaking with rust – and set them on the side-table in Sam’s workshop, blinking in the soft golden Charter lights as everything around him turned to an unfocused haze.

Not that it was terribly bad; he could stand to wait a little longer for what was to come, he had to admit. He had been the one who had asked for this, yes, but now that it came to it, he wasn’t really in much of a hurry to make the switch. Not that he wouldn’t trust Sam with his very life, but the idea of some strange little device – even though it glowed with Charter magic only – being placed in his eye, fusing with his flesh, still made fear clench its iron grip around his heart, even after all these months.

Nick tried to let the memories of hot metal and blinding bright shards go as he had been teaching himself, pushing them to the back of his mind and swallowing nervously. Here, there was only the soft gold of many Charter marks, filling up Sam’s workshop and glowing in reassuring harmony with the marks on both their foreheads.

Now that Nick had learned a few marks himself, it astonished him all the more, the way Sam’s workshop was so steeped in marks; he had never known before, never appreciated how much of a genius his best friend really was.

He had to admire the artistry that went into the golden lens – about the size of his thumbnail, and glimmering with the Charter marks that wove its substance, for as Sam had already told him it was all magic with no glass to it at all – that would soon be fusing with his cornea.

Having said that though, he was still a little wary. He squinted, regarding the blot that was the little faintly-glowing circle his friend held delicately on the tip of one finger with some some suspicion. “And this… really will correct my vision?”

“In one eye, at least,” said Sam cheerfully, coming a little closer. “The left, to be precise. There’s a separate one for the right eye.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Just that the spell is a little stronger; trust you to be able to rattle off your Ancelstierran optometrist’s prescription and all.” He smiled. “Honestly, thank you for that. It really did make things easier.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Of course, there may still be some…. ah…” Nick could see Sam – blurry as he was – frowning at something, drawing a few marks – _still fine-tuning?_ thought Nick with some alarm “…um… complications… eyes are complicated, much more than Lirael’s hand or Ferin’s foot…”

“Complications…?!”

“Nothing serious!” said Sam hastily. “I fixed the slight… disintegration issue with the first models. I’ve figured that out now, I swear.”

“Well, thank goodness for that.” Nick gulped, his voice flat with sarcasm to conceal his nerves. Sam really had put all his considerable ingenuity into this after all. “Also, top marks for reassuring bedside manner.”

Sam laughed a little, grudgingly. “Well, your being a handy source of Charter marks yourself should help actually! Very convenient, actually. It should even work in Ancelstierre if you’re visiting. Probably.” Sam patted him on the shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring. “And it’s not like I won’t be able to fix things if the spell _does_ begin to unravel…”

“…Sam.”

“Sorry. Oh! While we’re here…. it would only take a little tweak in the spell, so are you quite sure you don’t want them to glow? It’s a very nice little feature, you shouldn’t listen to those two, they don’t appreciate it…”

Nick winced slightly. “I’m quite alright without the glowing, thank you.”

Same shook his head. “You’ve _clearly_ been spending too much time with my aunt. No taste, any of you. No appreciation for my talents…”

“Sam, please. Just put the damn thing in my eye.”

“Okay! Okay.” Sam smiled, touching Nick on the shoulder. “Now, tilt your head back for me…”

All Nick could do was nod, then quickly crick his neck back slightly, still a little uneasy.

Sam loomed up close and blurred, extending a finger tipped with a bright spark of gold, and for a moment Nick went rigid, before forcing himself to relax. This was Sam, this was Charter magic. Nothing would go wrong.

Sure enough, as the lens touched his eye he felt the Charter magic in his own blood respond, surging to his eye and the mark on his forehead.

“Try not to blink!” said Sam, and Nick had to physically force himself not to do just that; the marks itched horribly for a moment, and for a few seconds he felt dizzy; as though he were falling into the Charter in that slightly disorientating way he had been prone to when he first started learning to pick out and use some simple marks, rather than just being a vessel for them.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. He tilted his head forwards again, blinking furiously; his eye was a little sore, but, he realised, he could see – better even than through his glasses, albeit only in one eye.

Sam’s face sprang into sharp focus on one side, frowning nervously at him. “Is it okay…?”

“It’s….” Nick smiled suddenly. “It’s perfect! This is….” he waved his hand in front of his eye, blinking a little more. He couldn’t even feel the little disk of spell-stuff; he supposed it had simply vanished into his eye, and he had not expected to feel quite so completely all right with that. “I have to say, Sam, you’ve really done your Wallmaker ancestors proud et cetera… you’ll have to show me how it works when I learn some more marks! There are some that bend light like an ordinary lens, I assume, but the way you must have woven them together…”

Sam was nodding and laughing too now, his face breaking out in a relieved smile. “I’ll teach you all about it some day… I’m just glad you’re interested! I was going to wait a little while, but shall I do the other eye now?”

“Please do” said Nick, leaning his head back.

 

Afterwards they sat in Sam’s workshop for a little while, as Nick picked up his broken glasses, smiling down at them ruefully. “These old things” he said, shaking his head. “I went through so many of them, over the years. Funny to think I won’t need them anymore.” He grinned. “Maybe I should bury them in the ground. That or leave them to fall apart; I’d like to do a more empirical study of how Ancelstierran things break down out here. It’s a fascinating topic, and I can’t find a single book on it, even in the Clayr’s library, would you believe?”

“I can believe that…” said Sam. “I’ve often thought about that exact thing, actually.” Still, his voice was subdued, and Nick did not miss the hint of concern in his face, as he too looked down at Nick’s broken glasses.

In that moment, Nick knew Sam was thinking of another pair of glasses, and the boy who had worn them several years ago, broken down into pieces by the Old Kingdom and the magic it held.

Sam looked up to meet his eye. “Are you… are you okay, Nick?”

Nick held his gaze. Somehow, he knew the way in which Sam meant it; physically, Nick was better than ever, all his physical injuries long healed, his heart more whole and full than it had ever been. Surrounded by his love for Lirael and hers for him, still dizzying and bright and new as spring came to Belisaere, yet strong as the deep-running waters of the Ratterlin. He was surrounded, too, by his new family on all sides, the prospect of a new life in the Old Kingdom ahead of him.

But Sam had known him longer than anyone. Sam, he knew, still saw the shadows under his eyes when the light was right, saw the scars that crisscrossed his skin.

Sam still blamed himself, sometimes. Lirael saw it too, he knew. But she was not the one who could carry that burden for Sam, nor should she have to be.

Nick sighed, put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Most of the time… yes. I’m okay.” He said. “I’m… getting better every day.” He hesitated. “And you’re helping, Sam.”

“Oh…” said Sam, who clearly had only half expected an answer. His dark brows knitted together, and he stared at his feet. “Well. That’s that then. As long as you - ”

“Sam.”

His old friend started a little. “Hmm?”

“Are _you_ okay?”

Sam opened his mouth, closed it again. Nick realised – though it was hard to notice, through the warmth of the Charter lights in the workshop – that Sam was still quite pale. Though perhaps he always was, Nick thought. Perhaps it was just his Abhorsen blood, just like Lirael and Sabriel; that wouldn’t surprise him. But the light in the workshop gave a softness to his face, adding some warmth back to it.

He fit well here, Nick thought. It was his place.

“I’m okay too” Sam said. “Mostly.”

“I don’t blame you, you know” blurted Nick, surprising himself. “For…” he rubbed his wrist unconsciously; the ugly scarring still hadn’t quite silvered yet there. Lirael had kissed the place on his wrist sadly, telling him she suspected it would never heal fully despite the Charter magic in him, with the Free Magic damage he had taken. Her dark eyes had been serious and sad and he had thought she must be right; Lirael understood things like this. “For… _everything_.” he continued, forcing himself to carry on now that he had started, even though the words were difficult. “Everything that happened. I mean to say, ah…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t blame you for _anything_.” Why was he so tongue-tied now? He had wanted to say this for a while, but he hadn’t quite known how to approach it, and besides he had been so distracted. Maybe that had been his mistake, though. He found himself laughing nervously. “After all, I nearly did destroy the world, so…”

To his relief, Sam laughed too, and the sound in the little room was somehow defiant against the dark memories creeping up, as golden and warming as the light in the room. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t see clearly, back then.”

Nick smiled, blinking in the warm light and impulsively pulling Sam into a hug, warm with the Charter marks that swirled around them. “Ah, then it’s just as well because…” he smiled, as Sam hugged him back, “now I can see more clearly than ever.”


End file.
